


Before the Snow Day

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "After 300 years of exclusion, Jack hasn’t exactly had a lot of experience in being social with others. Now that he’s got friends and a slowly growing number of believers, I want to see Jack try to edge his way back into the game with things like small talk or offering advice. But he fails spectacularly at all of it.Bonus if he confides in Sandy thinking that it feels safest for… whatever reasons (i.e. Sandy doesn’t talk and therefore by theory won’t mercilessly tease him).Extra Bonus if Sandy still manages to tease Jack in between comforting him."Jack and Sandy spend some time together the night before a snow day, and Jack tells Sandy something that’s been troubling him about the other Guardians. This turned out “quieter” than the prompt seems to call for.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Kudos: 33
Collections: Cold Gold Short Fics





	Before the Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 1/15/2014.

_At least the stars don’t change,_ Jack thinks, and smiles, looking up to the clear night sky as he leans back against Sandy, who sits behind him on the cloud of dreamsand, worrying his hair into shining white peaks. In the shade, they’ll look like the snow drifts Jack’s been leaving across the fields and towns passing below them, but under the moonlight, they’ll glimmer golden with dreamsand that’s been rubbed from Sandy’s fingers.   
  
Once, after Sandy had been playing with his hair, Jack had led him to a small pond that he had frozen smooth and shining as a mirror. In its surface the moonlight made their hair look nearly the same, and they had smiled at each other in the reflection. As they returned to the sky, Jack had wondered, as he usually did on full moon nights, if the moonlight was a creator or destroyer of illusions. But then Sandy had formed his dreamsand into an improbable-looking harness for mechanical wings and his pajamas into a racing suit as he tossed a question mark over his head, and so Jack had let the question fall out of his mind in favor of flight.  
  
Sandy lets go of Jack’s hair and pats his shoulders. Jack turns around and lightly touches the tips of Sandy’s own spikes, looking down and away with a small smile. He had tried to add his own ornamentation of ice to Sandy’s hair before, but Sandy was far too warm for that and had only gotten wet. They’d both laughed, but Sandy didn’t let him try that again.  
  
Now, he moves around so he can sit beside Sandy and watch him as he sends his threads of dreamsand down, dancing between the huge, slow snowflakes that Jack’s sending in their millions onto the town. Jack’s got a snow day planned for those below, and he knows Sandy knows it too, as the threads of dreamsand grow thicker, making the elaborate patterns upon them that are normally too small to see plainly visible. Or, at least, plainly visible to Jack, who’s accustomed to the scale of snowflakes. The children will be sleeping in tomorrow—they ought to have especially vivid dreams to fill that sleep.  
  
Jack touches a finger to one dreamsand thread and exultation flashes through him for a moment as a tower with a childlike magician leaning out of the window appears. He watches her turn into a horse and leap out before the image returns to the thread.  
  
Sandy glances up at him, his expression gently chiding. Jack shrugs as he grins, and reaches out for another thread, another image. He knows that if he keeps his touch light, the dream won’t be affected as it reaches the sleeper. Sandy had explained it to him when he started spending more time with him. And he has been spending a lot of time with him. More than he spends with the others. Sandy will have noticed, of course, but Jack decides it’s time to finally say something about it.  
  
“They worry about me,” he says.  
  
A question mark appears above Sandy’s head.  
  
As Jack thinks the moon rises several more degrees in the night sky. “They think I don’t talk enough.”  
  
Sandy’s expression is one of mock horror and he raises his hands before himself. Jack laughs, and Sandy’s face softens. He reaches one arm around Jack’s waist for a quick half-hug, and Jack sighs and stretches one arm across Sandy’s shoulders. Sandy’s right, of course. The other Guardians’ worry is their own concern.  
  
“Do you think I’ll start talking more?” They all think it’s important, though they’ve stopped saying so aloud.  
  
Sandy nods and raises one hand, the palm facing up, shakes his head and raises the other the same way. Both hands are on the same level. Jack nods, relieved again. He won’t worry himself, then. He doesn’t have to be more or less like Sandy or the others. He’ll be all right whatever happens. He pulls Sandy into a proper hug, then, and Sandy hugs him back, and the dream-power that sparks against his neck and the snowflakes that melt on Sandy’s pajamas say more than whatever words are supposed to.


End file.
